


These foolish things (remind me of you)

by reminaissance



Category: Carol (2015) RPF, The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: F/F, Fluff, One Shot Collection, The one where Therese cooks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:35:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6126195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reminaissance/pseuds/reminaissance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After two months of Therese living with Carol, they have slowly made their way into creating their own definition of home. Or, the one where Therese does the cooking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These foolish things (remind me of you)

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of a series of one-shots, mainly from moments I create in my head and cannot get out until I do something about it. And by that I mean until I write them down somewhere. I hope you guys enjoy it. And obviously, comments and kudos are always welcome!  
> -Elena.

* * *

 

Nearly two months passed before Therese moved in with Carol.

Making the decision itself had not been hard. Therese had done so while dinner was served, drinks were shared, and she had spent the evening with the presence of Carol by her side, that one fateful night at the Oak Room. She had made her choice, with the subtle ways in which Carol found her eyes between communal laughs and conversations; saying 'Thank you', saying 'I love you', saying 'Stay'. Therese knew then, that there was not a single particle within herself that could go on with the thought of having Carol outside of her life. But yet, she chose to stay faithful to the decision she had made during the time her heart took to slowly pick itself up the floor after Carol left. She made the decision of finding out what she wanted; in her life, in love, in everything. She made the decision of knowing when to say ' _No'_ if she wished to do so. And that is why, despite the vehement flutter of her heart as Carol spoke those words and asked her to move in with her she chose to say no, for her own sake.  That is why she chose to take her time, as she told Carol the day after, that she wished to go slow instead of blindly spiraling down into another consummating act of love that had the possibility of burning out faster than the flame could hold. 

And it took two more months afterwards for the both of them to settle into a series of routines that complemented their definition of home.

Carol was the one to turn off their bedroom lamp when nights would not call for more than gentle kisses, tangled limbs and quiet good nights. Therese made sure to buy food and ingredients for the meals Carol actually enjoyed cooking as opposed to the ones she had been obliged to prepare as a housewife. Carol was the early riser, always managing to wake Therese up with the fresh smell of food coming off the kitchen. Therese was the one to place Carol's cigarette case in the same spot on the coffee table because she had the tendency to misplace it **―** although as well, she would come to hide it from time to time, when she observed that Carol had had more than her fair share per day.  

And there would be times when Therese would be the one arriving home earlier.

In evenings like those she would find herself going through her nightstand drawer, picking at handwritten copies of recipes she may or may not have taken trips to the Public Library to find. She had never excelled at cooking, God knows she had barely ever tried. But that had been something that she rightfully thought Carol would like.

She had called Abby one day, asking her if she could come over for a couple hours to help her learn how to cook.  She still chuckled at the memory.  _'_ _Cook?'_ Abby had incredulously asked. ' _Are you turning into a Harge-wife now?.. Get it? House and Harge rhyme.'_  Both her and Therese had laughed a good full minute at the goofiness of her joke.Regardless, she agreed to help after Therese briefly explained why she wanted to learn. She taught her the basics, having only enough time for that before Carol arrived home. But Carol's reaction to it, both a delighted smile at the table, and a fully sensual night in bed, had made Therese look forward to doing it more and more.

Therese planted herself in the middle of the kitchen, looking at the salmon she had purchased at the store on her way back home. Never before had she eaten such meal before, which was one of the main reasons why she had decided to try for it that night. It was also a proud moment for her to admit that she had only needed to call Abby once. 

"How do I know when a salmon is cooked?"

Abby chuckled. "Should I notify the Fire Department soon?"

"Abby!" 

She laughed loudly this time. If there was something Abby had come to appreciate when Therese and Carol finally got together was the great amount of teasing she could get out of the younger girl. There were times where she would make Therese squirm and blush with subtle lesbian jokes, knowing that she would catch the drift only after Carol explained it to her and threw a playful glare at her.

"Fine, fine. It takes about fifteen or twenty minutes. Just stick a fork into it and see if it flakes. If it does then you've completed the Housewife Course."

Therese groaned. "Make sure you sent me the certificate." She grumbled.

With that she shook her head in amusement as she hung up to the sound of laughter coming  from the other line.

It took her almost an hour to cook what she hoped would be a decent salmon steak, just in time for it to begin to cool off and for Carol's unfaltering steps to make her way into the apartment. 

"Darling, are you home?" Carol's voice was a mix of slight curiosity and pleasant expectation.

Discarding her heels by the walk in closet, Carol padded her way towards the warm scent of a freshly cooked dinner. She found Therese waiting for her with a mirthful smile on her face and a glass filled with white wine on her hand. 

"Well, well, Miss Belivet, what do I see here?" She teased as she reached Therese in three strides and snaked her right arm around a slim waist. 

"Had I known I would find such a fine lady in the middle of my kitchen I would have dressed up for the occasion."

Therese's smile widened. "This fine lady will be alright if you make it up to her by not dressing at all later tonight."

Carol threw her head back in laughter at her response, amused by the small victory gained by Therese's wittiness. She pecked her lips in temporary surrender while making a move to steal the glass from her hands and taking a sip of the smooth white wine. Before Therese's arms had completed the job of locking her in place she stepped out of the embrace and swayed her hips as she walked towards their bedroom.

Looking back across her shoulder, her voice sultry and low, Carol said, "Why, must I do all the undressing myself?"

* * *

Two hours later Therese looked sheepish enough for the both of them for having skipped their meal time. She had been so accustomed to timely dinners from growing up in boarding schools that it was still hard for her to shake off the habit of eating at a specific hour. But she figured that was part of creating a home with someone. It came with responsibilities and compromises, but also freedom, and understanding, and the liberating sensation of being able to be who one is. Untimely dinner habits and all.

Carol had loved the salmon and so had Therese. They ate leisurely, breaking a few times to talk about their days. Therese spoke excitedly of the prospect of a promotion but complained about the dramatic attitude of her supervisor.

"He keeps telling me how promising my work is and then drops hints about a promotion coming up. Then he pauses and stares at me like I'm supposed to already agree to something."

She shook her head and frowned. "It's the pauses that make me wary. He has weird fish eyes."

Carol chuckled behind the rim of her wine glass. "Isn't he the retired professor? That's what they do, darling. Professors are experts at pregnant, eerie pauses."

Therese giggled. A few bites later Carol moved on to flaunt about their new furniture arrivals and about how she had not so gently turned down the delivery man.

"He blatantly stared up and down at me and said 'wouldn't mind moving around your furniture any time you want, m'am' I'm _sure_ the man was not talking about furniture."

Therese almost choked on her salmon, her cheeks going red from a mix of shock and overall outrage at the man's dissolute manners. 

"'I will be sure to let you know, sir.' I said. 'What with being still in our honeymoon stage and all, Terry and I have been  _so_ busy. If you know what I mean. We wouldn't mind someone coming and moving some stuff around.'"

The words _Terry_ and _honeymoon_ caused Therese to choke again for a very different reason. Carol never called her Terry, for once. And she would be lying if she said the word honeymoon didn't ignite in her a mixture of fluttering excitement and giddiness.  

"You should have seen his face, darling." She continued. "He blabbered and tried to apologize until I told him to close the door when he left as I walked away."

"You told him Terry?" She said, slightly perplexed. Carol smirked at her knowing what had caught her lover's attention the most.

"You can't really tell much of Terry, so it feels safe enough. Besides," she said, sobering up slightly from her storytelling and looking straight at Therese with adoring eyes. "If I cannot fully announce the person I love at any time, then I reserve every chance I get to use a shortened version of your name."

Therese felt oddly speechless. After all this time and ever since they met, Carol had yet to fail at provoking within Therese a sense of quiet joy that spread warmly over every inch of her body. However small the sensation, it was always there. A perpetual state of happiness.

She did not know how Carol did it. Or why it had to be her, to begin with. Therese figured she never would know, only accepting it once the realization came to her that she had fallen in love for what was the first, and what felt like the last time. Because she knew she would never in this lifetime find someone like Carol. And Therese, deep within and without much conscious thought, prayed to find _her_ again, on her next one.

They finished shortly. Carol took up to washing the few dishes there were while Therese refilled their glasses of wine and took them over to the living room. They had cultivated the habit of moving on to the couch if they chose to wind down in silence yet in the company of each other, which could be most of the time, except for when Therese had to work on developing new photos or Carol had to work on new investments for the furniture store she had been slowly beginning to manage for. 

The night turned quiet as they both fell away into their own worlds, none of them truly far from there, but rather suspended. As if regardless of how far their minds could wander away from themselves, they could always come back to each other at the subtlest of touches or the softest of callings.

Carol's slender legs lay over most of the couch's length, giving that Therese had long ago developed the tendency of sitting curled up if she felt comfortable enough. A photography magazine rested in the space between her knees and her chest, while one of her hands flipped through the flimsy pages and the other rested easily on top of Carol's feet.

Nearly an hour passed blanketed in silence before Carol's mind took a break from the printed words before her. She gazed over at the oblivious girl who had, in more ways than one, permanently changed her future and deviated her from a life she had spent years trying to build over the shaky grounds of draining pretense. Behind the mask of someone who was destined to stay and be in love with the wrong person.

"Did you ever love Richard?" She suddenly asked Therese, watching over the forgotten novel with a calming, yet inquisitive gaze.

Therese looked back with bright, open eyes as she pondered over the question.

It didn't throw her off. That question, she herself had asked many times before. She had loved the company in solitary days, the conformity of it and the ordinary easiness it brought along. She enjoyed some nights where she would deliberately allow herself to be held, if only for a while. But Richard was never a fully ignited flame. He was the faint sparks that appeared from time to time as one tries to light a fire. He was a person Therese could cherish, simply as that; a person. Because looking back to it, Richard, with his boyish smile and his protective nature; his searching kisses and innocuous attempts at sharing a physical connection, was never able to make Therese feel as alive as Carol did the first time their eyes met.

She shook her head slowly, and getting lost in her thoughts she broke eye contact for a moment.

"I can't say I did... I can't say I ever knew what love was until I met **―** " She paused, thinking over her words and what imminently came next; over the weight they carried. Over her own statement finally admitted out loud. "You."

Looking out at the window in the living room she whispered wistfully,  "I met you and love at the same time."

Therese's certainty over her last words came in the steady way her head turned towards Carol, with her magazine neglected on her lap. Carol gazed at her with eyes so deeply full of love Therese knew not how to respond except for a gentle smile drawn on her lips. She watched as Carol approached her, putting down the book on the side table.

With graceful fingers snaking around the back of Therese's knees, Carol slid over closer, lifting up her lover's legs and gently placing them down on her lap as she eliminated the insolent amount of wasteful space between them. She leaned in, her right hand searching to hold Therese's cheek, craving for the contact of her fingertips with warm skin.

Carol loved holding Therese; her hand subtly under the table during dinner gatherings; on late night walks in Central Park, and above her head during excruciatingly slow moments of passion. She loved holding her feet as Therese's mind wandered away with a novel, and her head as she kissed her time and again. It was the contact. Her inherent desire to experience the awareness that they both existed at the same time and the vehement solace this brought into her life.

She gazed deeply into Therese's eyes, searching for the love she had learned to find swarming in lively green eyes, as her thumb caressed the skin underneath it.

"What must I have done," Carol whispered, "in this life or in my previous ones, to deserve you."

She felt the warmth of Therese's exhale against her face before allowing herself to be pulled into a searing kiss. Her eyes fluttered shut by the weight of the sentiment conveyed in their touch while she took a deep inhale through her nose to be able to kiss Therese back. Capturing Therese's upper lip between her own, Carol did not let go for the rest of the night.


End file.
